


Oedipus

by Innwich



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Oedipal Issues, Pining, Unrequited Love, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2220396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innwich/pseuds/Innwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knew he shouldn’t crush on a guy twice his age and in love with his dad, but he couldn’t help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean was holding a pistol and he was shivering in the cold, staring at the woods where John had gone to hunt a werewolf. Sam was sleeping in the Impala with the heat turned up. Dean was used to this. He was the big brother; he had to protect Sammy from the things that went bump in the night.

The trees waved in the wind, and Dean kept turning on the spot, half-expecting werewolves to jump up from every shadow that moved.

Dean rubbed his arms, but it didn’t do much for him.

It was cold as balls.

And boring. He wanted to go back to the motel where there was heating and _Dirty Harry_ reruns.

It was then that Dean saw the thing running towards him from the woods. It looked human and it was wearing a baseball cap and t-shirt like any guy on the streets, but there was something wrong with it, like its weird yellowish eyes and the way it was panting too heavily.

Dean stood frozen for a second. Despite what John said, he didn’t really expect to have to deal with the werewolf himself, because John always took care of the monsters. Dean fumbled with the safety. His fingers were icy cold. He fired his pistol, but he missed the werewolf by inches.

The werewolf pounced on Dean. Dean fell hard on his back and dropped the gun. The ground was rock solid. He would have an ugly bruise tomorrow.

If he lived till tomorrow.

Dean tried to scramble up from the ground, but the werewolf had grabbed a hold of his foot and pulled him to the ground again. Dean kicked at the monster’, but it wouldn’t budge.

The werewolf leaned down to sniff at Dean, and Dean could see saliva dripping from its sharp yellowing teeth. The monster was so close it was breathing foul air on Dena’s face.

Dean wanted to gag. “Get the fuck away from me!”

There was a hungry look in the werewolf’s eyes as it stretched a clawed hand to Dean’s chest.

Dean was gonna die. He knew it. He hoped John got back before the monster could get to Sam.

A gunshot rang out deafeningly. Then the monster slumped forwards. Dean rolled to the side so the corpse didn’t fall on him and fell next to him instead.

“Dad?” Dean said, the words coming out as a whisper.

A man was standing in front of him with a rifle. It wasn’t John. It was a guy dressed in an army jacket and worn jeans and boots. He couldn’t be more than a few years younger than John. The man crouched down and wrapped warm hands around Dean’s shoulders. He watched Dean with concerned blue eyes. “Are you hurt?”

Dean wanted to say he was fine and why the hell was the guy looking at him like he was gonna drop any moment. Dean was eleven years old; he wasn’t a little kid like Sam was. Then Dean realized the weird breathy noises were the sound of him hyperventilating, while he was curling into himself.

“You’re in shock,” the man said.

“Dean?” Sam whimpered from the Impala. He rubbed at his eyes sleepily. “What’s going on?”

“Sam! Dean!” John came running towards them with his chest heaving and his face twisted into concern. John spared the body on the floor one look, before he held Dean, checking him for injuries. The stranger stepped away.

“Did the werewolf hurt you?” John said, pulling Dean close.

“I’m fine, Dad,” Dean said, but he couldn’t help leaning into the hug. “This guy, uh, he saved me.”

John released Dean to look at the stranger. He sized the guy up, and the guy just raised his chin stubbornly. “Who are you?”

“Castiel Shurley,” Cas said.

“John Winchester. I’ve heard of you from Bobby,” John said, holding out a hand. The man shook it, and John relaxed slightly.

“You know Bobby?” Cas said.

“Everyone knows Bobby,” John said. “What are you doing out here in the woods?”

“I followed the werewolf on foot from town. I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”

“Likewise,” John said. “Do you need anything? A ride to town maybe?”

“That would be nice,” Cas said gratefully.

Since it was early morning when they reached town, and it’d been a while since John met another hunter, they went to a Biggerson’s for breakfast. Dean’s hands shook badly, and he could only finish half of his burger before his throat felt too tight and he had to put down the burger.

Sam finished the burger for Dean, because Sam was secretly a T-Rex in a kid’s body.

John and Cas turned from talking about the werewolf to news in the hunting community. Someone died, someone was mauled, and there were some new monsters that hadn’t surfaced in years. Dean didn’t know who they were talking about most of the times, but since he didn’t sleep last night, he eventually nodded off to the murmurs about monster lore.

After breakfast, Cas and John arranged to meet up again for lunch, which turned into several dinners over the week and sometimes John staying in another room at the motel. When Cas finally left town in his small truck, Dean was sad to see him go, because John laughed a lot more during the few days Cas had been with them.

\- - -

The bell for the end of the school day couldn’t ring soon enough for Dean.

Dean was always one of the first to walk out of the doors of high school. Sam was waiting for him.

“Dean!” Sam grinned. He was bouncing up and down on his heels, and practically vibrating with excitement. “Guess what?”

“Did you get a girlfriend?” Dean ruffled Sam’s hair. Sam squirmed away. “Congrats, man.”

“Shut up, Dean. Cas is here!” Sam yanked Dean to where a black pickup truck was waiting across the road.

Cas was leaning against the driver door. He had an unbuttoned flannel shirt over a gray t-shirt, and ripped jeans and boots.

It wasn’t Dean’s fault that his heart skipped a beat.

Sam whooped loudly and ran up to Cas. “Cas!”

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said, picking up Sam and twirled him in the air. Sam yelled in delight, so Cas lifted him up again before putting him down on the floor.

“Are you staying with us for the week, Cas?” Sam asked brightly, his hair in a mess.

“Yes. John said he just finished his latest hunt, and I want to see you boys,” Cas said. He turned to Dean with a smile, “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. He had a learned a long time to stop blushing in the man’s presence. “I have no idea how you could pick up Sammy’s fat ass. He’s been stuffing himself with junk food.”

‘You are a fat ass.” Sam tried to kick Dean’s shins. Dean dodged the kick. “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean said.

“Dean.” Cas smiled. “You’ve got taller since the last time I seen you. You’re gonna tower over me at this rate.”

It was true. Dean was almost eye-to-eye with Cas now. He still remembered when the top of his head barely reached Cas’s elbows. Dean could feel himself blushing, but he grinned, putting all the confidence he didn’t feel behind it. “Well, you could have come around more often. We haven’t seen you for months.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said sincerely. Who talked like that? No one treated fourteen-year-olds like grown-ups, not even John. “I had a hunt that led me up and down the east coast. It was too far to come and see you. I promise to drop in whenever I can.”

Dean saw the wide open look in Cas’s eyes, and the new wrinkles around his eyes. Dean wanted so bad to kiss the worry and worn-out look off his face. “Yeah, okay.”

“Come on, guys!” Sam had climbed into the passenger seat while they were talking and was poking his head out of the window. “I want to go back to the motel. I have homework to do.”

“You’re a nerd, “Dean said.

“Geek,” Sam shot back.

“I won’t stand in the way of you and your homework,” Cas said fondly.

Cas stayed with them for the next two days. Sam liked to bug Cas with his homework, because unlike John, Cas didn’t spend all his waking moments poring over monster lore and newspapers clippings. And unlike Bobby, Cas wasn’t a grumpy old man holed up in the salvage yard.

Cas was nice, and he was good with Sam, even if the kid was kind of a brat.

Dean liked Cas. A lot. More than he should.


	2. Chapter 2

It was pitch black and pouring rain when Dean walked out of the bar, his wallet fifty bucks lighter.

Dean climbed into the Impala glumly. No one knew anything about the late Whitman. All the bartender could remember was the guy came in alone every other night. He always ordered a beer and nothing more. Not exactly the kind of guy anyone would expect to be found shredded to pieces in his own home.

Another friggin’ dead-end.

“Dean,” someone said from the passenger seat.

“Shit!” Dean fumbled for the knife in his boot. Before he could reach it, his wrists were clad in an iron grip and twisted behind his back. Dean tried to pull his leg up to kick the intruder in the guts. A hard knee knelt on his thigh before he managed it. Dean was forced back in his seat, with the back of his head pressed tight against the headrest. Dean glowered through the dark to see a pair of tired blue eyes blinking at him, and a man kneeling halfway in his lap.

“It’s me,” Cas said.

Dean could feel his cheeks heating, which was weird because he was sure most of his blood was rushing southwards. “Get off of me, Cas!”

“You were trying to stab me,” Cas pointed out.

There was a confused tangle of limbs, but eventually Cas managed to settle back in the passenger seat. Dean rubbed his wrists where Cas had grabbed him, and willed his furious blush away, before reaching up to switch on the dome light.

Cas looked exhausted. He was wearing bruised bags beneath his eyes and deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, showing his age. His hair was a rat’s nest. The blue t-shirt under his army jacket was so creased it was like it’d been used as a kitchen floor cloth 

‘Dude, what happened to you?” Dean said.

“Hitchhiking.” Cas huffed in frustration. “Your father took the truck. I had to hitchhike all the way to get here.”

Of course that was why Cas was here and not with John. Dean ignored the familiar surge of bitterness in his throat. “Doesn’t explain how you found me.”

“You told me about this hunt on the phone yesterday,” Cas said. It was a surprise he wasn’t rolling his eyes. “And the Impala isn’t difficult to find in a town this small.”

“It is still friggin’ creepy of you to be waiting for me in my car.”

Cas glared at him. “It’s raining outside.”

“Please tell me you didn’t pick Baby’s locks,” Dean said. “Or I swear I’m gonna leave your ass out here.”

“I didn’t break into the car,” Cas said with an affronted frown. “John gave me a copy of the car key. Can we go now? I didn’t sleep on the way here.”

“Alright, Bossypants.” Dean switched off the dome light. The engine started with its familiar rumble, and then Dean steered them towards the only main street in the town.

On the way, Dean sneaked a peek over at Cas, who was resting his head against the window, staring out at the rain. It was easy to forget the guy could kill any monster with knives.

“So, uh, what brought you here?” Dean asked. “Is Dad being an asshole again?”

Cas was silent. When Dean looked over again, ready with an apology about how Cas didn’t have to answer because it was none of his business, he saw that Cas was staring back at him. Cas was pursing his lips into a thin line. “John is missing.”

\- - -

Back at the motel, Cas paced the room, while Dean was sitting cross-legged on the bed. They tried to phone Sam but their calls went straight to voicemail and their texts were unanswered.

“Maybe he’s side-tracked. You know how he is whenever he thinks he’s on the track of Yellow Eyes,” Dean said.

“It’s been two weeks. He didn’t leave a note, nothing,” Cas said. He ran his hand through his hair absently. “I know him. He wouldn’t do this.”

The ‘to me’ didn’t have to be spoken out loud. Dean was used to the twisting tug in his guts by now.

“Dad and I compared notes on possible cases before we split. I think I know where he is.” Dean pulled out a few pieces of paper from his duffel bag, and handed them to Cas. “People keep disappearing on a stretch of highway. In all of the cases, the drivers and passengers were all gone. Only their cars were ever found.”

Cas scanned through the newspaper articles. “We need to go now.”

Dean snatched back the papers from Cas. Cas went for the table where he’d put his duffel bag. “You don’t have a car, man. You don’t even have the dough to make it here. How are you gonna get to where Dad is?”

Cas pulled on his jacket. “I can hitchhike.”

“Look, Dad’s always fine after he pulled one of his long hunting trips. You know that,” Dean said. “I could really use your help with my hunt. I don’t know what kind of fugly is behind this, but it’s nasty, and I need your help.”

“You’ll figure it out. John trusts you to finish the hunt,” Cas said, avoiding Dean’s gaze. But Dean knew Cas could never refuse him anything.

“People are dying,” Dean said.

Cas heaved a sigh, and dropped his duffel bag back onto the floor. He looked at the only bed in Dean’s room, and said, “Fine, I’ll get a room.”

\- - -

The case was a real head-scratcher.

The victims died strange impossible deaths within the safety of their homes, and everyone in the town agreed they were the most decent people to walk the earth.

Dean and Cas talked to the victims’ neighbors, which meant Dean did most of the talking because Cas was shit at it. Their nights were spent at the local library. Cas dug through books on the history of the town, while Dean flipped through newspapers that dated all the way back to the establishment of the town. Cas refused to sleep most days, but at least the case stopped Cas from checking his phone every few minutes.

Dean figured out all of the victims attended the local church. After the neighbors were cross-questioned a few more times, they finally admitted there were rumors that the church recently kicked out a Vincent Alger that no one liked. Dean wanted to find the guy’s house and kill the guy, Cas insisted on finding the nature of the guy’s powers first. “It’s too dangerous to go in blindfolded.”

Things got worse when a Mr. Byrne was found dead in his house and stuffed full of rocks, but then Cas found a strange symbol tucked away behind Byrne’s bed.

Apparently, the symbol was used in voodoo curse. After that, it was a simple matter of sneaking into the Alger house and destroyed the guy’s altar of evil. Unfortunately, Alger returned way before they expected, because apparently they had triggered one of his spells around the house. Dean was flung into the walls a lot and Cas got his shirt set on fire once, but it all ended after Cas knifed the bastard in the heart.

That night, Dean dragged Cas to the bar to celebrate.

“Come on, Cas. Loosen up. I’m not letting you leave without turning into a drunken mess,” Dean said, as the bartender put down a tray of shots in front of them. “We do one shot each and see who’s the last one standing.”

“Deal.” Cas grinned, with all of his teeth showing and the corners of his eyes crinkling. It was the happiest hat Dean had seen him in a long time.

Maybe Dean just had stopped seeing Cas since Dean started hunting alone and spent less time hunting with John.

By the time Cas’s speech was slurred, Dean was so drunk he could hardly support his own weight. Dean felt like the floor would open up and swallow him whole if he toppled off his chair.

“Then John said ‘You’re one ugly motherfucker’, and fired the fireworks at it.” Cas laughed too loudly. His eyes lit up like it was the Fourth of July, and his nose was scrunched up like his grin was too big for his face. “It was awesome.”

“You’re awesome,” Dean said. He could lose himself in those eyes that practically sparkle. So he did the only thing that made sense: He rocked his chair forwards and covered Cas’s laughing mouth with his own.

It was everything he dreamt of and more. It was better than any of the fantasies he had when he jerked off. Fuck, this was so wrong, but then Cas’s mouth opened, and Dean wanted to do this forever.

Dean wanted to say stupid stuff like ‘I want you. We can run off together. Fuck what anyone said’, but then he was lightly pushed away, and he tumbled to the floor, missing his chair completely.

“Dean!”

Just before Dean passed out, he felt strong arms holding him.

\- - -

Dean woke up with a headache that threatened to crack his head in half.

He groaned. The bitterness surging up the back of his throat prompted him to run to the toilet. While he emptied the contents of his stomach, he swore he was never going to drink ever again.

Then he remembered what he did last night, and he wanted to die.

That was where Cas found him when he walked into the room with two cups of coffee and a paper bag that smelt like heaven.

Dean’s stomach clenched pitifully.

Dean had to drag himself away from the toilet, and up to the sink, where he washed his face.

At the table, Cas pushed a wrapped burger and a cup of coffee to Dean. He only had a cup of coffee for himself

‘Morning,” Dean said.

“Good morning,” Cas said.

He just watched Dean unwrap his burger slowly. Dean could feel the cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. Dean bit into the burger. Dean couldn’t take it anymore, he said, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What?” Cas said in confusion.

“Don’t make me say it, Cas,” Dean said. He waved vaguely between him and Cas, but Cas just frowned. “I kissed you. Aren’t you gonna get mad?”

“You were drunk,” Cas said simply. He stood up, holding his coffee, and ruffled Dean’s hair, messing it up even more than he woke up in the morning. The touch made Dean feel warm under the t-shirt he was wearing, like the heater in the room was turned up. “Eat up, Dean.”

After Dean washed up and carried his duffel bag to the Impala, he found Cas was already waiting by the Impala. Cas’s eyebrows were drawn tight together, as he held out a phone to Dean.

“Uh, why did you have my phone?” Dean said.

“You left it at the bar last night. The bartender phoned me from it,” Cas said, frowning at the phone like it had wronged him. “There is a new voicemail from John. You need to hear it.”

With a heavy heart, Dean took the phone and played the voicemail.

John’s voice came out in between bursts of static from the speakerphone, “Dean… something big is starting to happen… I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may… Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

\- - -

They went to Stanford.

Dean was jumped again when he sneaked into Sam’s place. An awful lot of his reunion s lately had been like that. But Dean guessed he deserved this one since he was breaking into Sam’s apartment in the dead of night.

Glad Sam didn’t let his combat skills went rusty.

It took a lot of persuasion, but Sam finally agreed to come with Dean. “I’m coming back after we checked out the highway.”

“Sure thing, Sammy. You won’t believe who’s here,” Dean said, taking him to where the Impala was parked. Cas was standing by the Impala, waving a little awkwardly.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said.

“Cas!” Sam wrapped his arms around Cas. Sam was wearing a huge goofy smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“Let him breathe, dude,” Dean said. He put Sam’s duffel bag in the trunk and slammed the trunk shut. “You’re crushing the old man.”

Cas tried to shoot Dean a stern glare but it was ruined by the smile he was wearing. “It’s good to see you too, Sam.”

“Enough with the chick flick moment. Let’s get this show on the road,” Dean said, getting into the driver seat.

Sam rode shotgun and Cas settled in the backseat.

It was almost like having his family back together again.

\- - -

When Jess burnt on the ceiling, Cas helped Dean dragged Sam out of the fire.

\- - -

They went on hunts. They followed the clues that John scattered behind him like breadcrumbs.

“I don’t understand why he’s doing this,” Cas said.

“We’ll find him, Cas,” Dean said, for the umpteenth time.

“And Yellow-Eyes,” Sam said.

Dean didn’t know if he liked the new change in Sam being so hell-bent on avenging Jess.

He should’ve known something was up with Sam.

After Sam admitted he was having visions, nightmares that came true, and his most recent nightmare was about their old house in Lawrence, they had to return to Lawrence. Dean was the only one unhappy about it. The chase brought them to a psychic named Missouri, and it turned out a poltergeist was haunting the old Winchester home.

It broke Dean’s heart to see his mother, and to watch her burst into flames and disappear again.

They offered Missouri a ride to her home, which she accepted.

Once they got there, Missouri asked Dean to carry her handbag to the house.

“Why?” Dean said.

Missouri wacked Dean upside the head from the backseat. “Can’t an old woman ask a young man for a little help these days?

“Dean,” Cas said. He gave Dean a significant _look_ in the rearview mirror. Even Sam was staring a hole into the side of Dean’s head from the passenger seat.

“Sure, why not?” Dean took the handbag and followed Missouri, as she slowly walked up to her house.

“You know, boy, you aren’t exactly subtle,” Missouri said.

“What?” Dean said, looking over at Missouri.

Missouri nodded at the Impala, where Cas and Sam were waiting. “You know what I mean, and I ain’t talking about you and your brother.”

Dean let out a laugh that sounded more like a strangled croak. “Right, yeah. You must be picking up Sam’s brainwaves, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the feelings you’ve been harboring for someone you shouldn’t be having those thoughts about. Sound familiar?” Missouri said.

Dean knew when the jig was up. He said sharply, “You can’t tell him.”

“I don’t plan to do anything of the sort.” Missouri shifted her gaze to her own house, and sighed deeply. Dean wasn’t sure what she was sighing about, because all he could see was an empty house with a nice garden in the front. When she turned back to him, there was pity in her eyes that made Dean want to look away. “But I have a piece of advice for you.”

“Like what?” Dean said.

Missouri said, not unkindly, “There ain’t nothing but a world of hurt down that road, honey.”

Dean could almost hear his heart rip. It wasn’t like Dean didn’t know that, but this was the first time anyone knew about his feelings for Cas, and to have that someone came out with that conclusion? It was a whole different kind of hurt.

“You take care of yourself,” Missouri said, as she held out a hand for her handbag. Dean didn’t realize they’d reached her house already. She said loudly enough for Sam and Cas to hear, “Thank you, Dean. Don’t you boys be strangers.”

When Dean made it back to the Impala, Sam was the first to ask, “What did she say?”

Dean flinched, wary that Sam had suddenly added mind-reading to his psychic powers. “What makes you think she said anything?”

“It’s obvious she wanted to talk to you alone,” Cas said from the backseat. His eyes were bright with hope. “Did she say anything about John?”

Dean looked straight ahead of the windshield to avoid the two hopeful gazes directed at him. “She just wanted to tell us to come around more. Nothing on Dad.”

“Oh,” Cas said, disappointment obvious in his tone.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find Dad,” Dean repeated, even if his insides felt like they’d been hollowed out. “I promise.”

\- - -

Dean didn’t expect to electrocute himself when he tasered the rawhead. He didn’t expect to end up in a hospital bed, with the doctor pronouncing him a few weeks from death.

“We still have options. I won’t let you die,” Sam said, his eyes shiny with tears. Cas stood next to Sam, his face pale and withdrawn. Cas nodded along to Sam’s words, but his eyes kept skittering away from Dean’s gaze.

Dean wasn’t the kind of guy to wait for death to come for him, so he checked himself out from the hospital.

When Dean arrived at the motel, he paused outside the room they were staying at. Sam and Cas were having a heated discussion inside.

“There’s only a one-in-a-million chance it’ll work.”

“Do you have a better idea? Because I’m ready to hear it, Cas,” Sam said. “This is our only chance. Dean’s dying in that hospital.”

There was a pregnant pause, then Cas said, “No, there’s no other way.”

Cas was a shitty liar, but Dean didn’t saying anything after he knocked on the door and put on the biggest grin he could manage.

The specialist Sam found was in Nebraska.

Dean refused to let Sam or Cas in the driving seat, which turned out to be the right decision, because Sam was snoring away within an hour, and Cas hadn’t stopped fiddling with his phone since he got in the car.

“What are you doing back there?” Dean said lowly, careful not to wake Sam.

“Trying to call John,” Cas said. He heaved a sigh of frustration. “I can’t reach him.”

“Remember that time you tried to phone Dad for a day, but it turned out you were calling his pager?” Dean laughed. He still remembered the look on Cas’s face when a fourteen-year-old Sam pointed out the mistake. “You sure that’s Dad’s cell you’re calling?”

Cas smiled slightly. “I’m sure. I’m getting his voicemail.”

The fiddling continued for the better part of an hour. After that came a long consequent tapping of keys, and Cas was sending texts to John.

Sam snored.

Dean knew he was going to die, despite Sam’s insistence otherwise. There was nothing that he could do to cheat death. And if Dean was going to go out, he didn’t want to leave anything unsaid. That was why Dean looked into the rearview mirror and said, “You know I love you, right?”

Cas met his eyes in the mirror. He smiled. He didn’t look surprised. “I love you too.”

“Thought you should know.” Dean grinned. Dean knew Cas didn’t mean it the way Dean did, but that was okay, because this was Dean’s last day on Earth, and he couldn’t afford to have too many regrets.

\- - -

Dean walked into the faith-healer’s tent with a failing heart and came out completely healed. After they found out a reaper was responsible and a young man had died in his stead, Dean was the first to blame himself. “You never should’ve brought me here. Some guy is dead now because of me.”

Sam looked as upset as Dean was feeling, “I was just trying to save your life.”

“It’s not your fault, Dean. You didn’t know,” Cas said. He said what neither of the brothers was willing to say, “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Many months later, Dean would think back to this moment, and wondered if Cas would say the same thing about John exchanging his own life for Dean.

\- - -

It was a stupid, amateur mistake that got them all tied up, with their hands bound behind them to separate posts, with blood running their faces.

The short-haired blonde smirked at Dean, and sauntered around the studio apartment like a creepy serial killer, which she probably was. “I have heard you boys are passing by and thought I should throw you a welcome party. Long time no see, Sam. It’s so nice of you to bring your two friends here.”

“What do you want, Meg?” Sam said. He had blood in the corner of his mouth.

“Nothing. I just want to check out the dynamic duo and their hot babysitter.” Meg walked up to Cas and traced his cheek with a finger, Cas turned his face away. She whistled. “John sure could pick ‘em.”

Dean slid the small knife out of his sleeve, and working at the rope around his wrists. He could tell from Sam’s constipated expression that he was doing the same thing.

“What do you know about John?” Cas said.

“Takes more than that to make me talk, Clarence,” Meg said. She sat down in Cas’s lap, with her legs on each side of Cas’s. “You’re pretty. Do I get a kiss or what?”

“No.” Cas glared at her.

“You’re no fun. Too bad I always get what I want,” Meg said. She gripped Cas’s face and pressed a sloppy kiss on his mouth, knocking his head back against the post he was tied to. When he tried to buck her off, Meg ground down in his lap, kissing him thoroughly in a clash of teeth.

Sam was working faster on cutting his ropes, his shoulders twitching minutely. Dean, on the other hand, stopped.

“Get the fuck away from him.” Dean snarled.

Meg pulled off from Cas’s lips with a wet pop, her lips red from the blood on Cas’s mouth. Meg smirked at Dean. “You jealous, Winchester?”

“You want a piece of me? You can go ahead,” Sam said. “I’ve seen the way you were looking at me.”

“Since you ask so nicely,” Meg said. She walked over to Sam, and straddled him. “What do you have in mind?”

“This.” Sam brought his hands up from behind him and smashed his head against Meg’s.

Meg fell to the floor, groaning in pain.

Before she could react, Sam was up and overturned the altar Meg had built on the other side of the apartment. They only watched as Meg screamed and the shadow demons she was controlling dropped her out of the window.

“Bitch,” Dean said, viciously enjoying the way the word rolled off his tongue.


	3. Chapter 3

When they returned to the motel, another surprise was waiting for them.

Dean didn’t see him at first, too busy looking out for other demons after them. But then he heard Cas’s breathless “John”, and Sam’s “Dad.”

John was standing in their small kitchen. His hair and beard turning more salt than pepper. “Hey, boys. Hey, Cas.”

Their reunion was interrupted when Meg’s shadow demons came after them. Sam delayed them with a flare, and the four of them ran out to the motel’s parking lot. Dean spotted the familiar hulking black truck next to his baby.

John took one look at all of them and the gashes on their faces they got from the beatings by Meg, and said, “We can’t stay together. It’s too easy for them to find us.”

Sam looked close to crying. “No, Dad. Not after everything we went through to find you.”

“Sam’s right,” Dean said. “‘Sides, there is safety in numbers.”

Despite the dark, Dean saw Sam turned to look at him. Dean was always the obedient son that did whatever John said was right, but he knew if the four of them split up, he knew he’d never get Cas to come with him and Sam.

“Dean?” John said. He clearly didn’t expect Dean to say that either.

“They’re right,” Cas said.

Cas and John shared a look. It made Dean’s stomach churn, but he reminded himself this was what he wanted: His family back together again.

“Let’s blow this joint,” John said, his gaze not leaving Cas’s. “Together.”

\- - -

“What is your problem?” Sam said from the passenger seat.

“Nothing,” Dean said, keeping his eyes on the road. John’s truck was rumbling along behind them. Cas always sat with John instead of them. “We have the Colt. There is finally a way to kill the Yellow-Eyed Demon when we found him. I’m looking forward to seeing his brains blown out.”

“That’s not it,” Sam said. “You’ve been a jerk even since we found Dad.”

A lot of things bothered Dean. Dean hated that Dad and Sam fought all the time. He hated that there was no one to talk to when the road was long and Sam was asleep. Dean hated that Cas shared a room with John on the other side of the motel and Dean couldn’t get rid of this stupid crush. Took your pick. “You picking fights with Dad. It’s getting on my nerves.”

Sam huddled in his seat like a scolded puppy. “I’m sorry.”

Dean sighed. He dropped Sam off at the motel. “I’m going out for air. Don’t wait up.”

Sam frowned after him as Dean drove away, but he didn’t stop Dean.

Dean picked a road and followed it, driving with the windows down and the wind in his hair. He could go on forever like this, drive until he reached the sea, and turn back and drive until he reached the other side of the country.

He’d be free even if his heart ached.

Dean turned the Impala around just after midnight, and returned to the motel.

Since the parking lot was facing the room Cas and John were staying at, Dean had to pass by the room to get to his side of the motel where he and Sam was staying. The lights were on in Cas and John’s room, and the curtains were drawn.

Dean didn’t mean to stop in front of the door, but he heard a pained hiss that sounded a lot like John.

“Shit,” John hissed. “Easy with the needle there.”

The room was silent, except for John’s heavy breathing. There was a snap of a scissor, and Cas sounded icy when he spoke, “You wouldn’t need one if you didn’t insist on hunting alone.”

“I told you I don’t need you to come along.”

“The Yellow-Eyed Demon is one of the most powerful demons that walk the earth. You can’t take it down by yourself,” Cas said.

“I can handle it,” John said, frustration in his voice. “I’ve been waiting for years for this.”

“I’m not letting you go into this alone.”

“Why the hell not?” John said.

There was a sudden grunt, and the sound of someone’s back hitting the wall. Dean heard something like wet lips and clicks of teeth and rustling of clothes.

“You have two sons to go back to, you ass,” Cas said. “They’ll mourn you.”

“This thing with the demon is about me and the boys. It doesn’t involve you.” John growled in between pants. “You should leave.”

Cas let out a short breathy raspy laugh. “After all these years, that’s what you said to me? Fuck you, Winchester.”

Fuck. Dean palmed the front of his jeans. He was growing hard.

Dean knew he shouldn’t be here. He had to leave and go back to his room and pretend he didn’t hear any of this. He shouldn’t be listening to his dad getting off with anyone. No one was making him stay but somehow he couldn’t move.

And he couldn’t keep his hand moving to release the pressure in his pants.

The action within the bedroom moved to the bed, as there was a chorus of heavy breathing and the mattress creaked. Something crashed onto the floor, and it sounded like a table lamp. 

“John,” Cas was saying, “John. Move.”

There was the sound of the headboard thumping to the wall in a steady staccato. Their panting was muffled, most probably against skin.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin started. It was frantic and primal and desperate, until Cas gasped out, “John!” which was matched by John’s long groan. The headboard hit the wall for final time before stopping.

Dean tried to will his hard-on down, but he knew he lips were bitten swollen and his cheeks were a bright red.

There were no more sounds from the room.

Dean was moving away from the door, when he heard Cas’s quiet, “I won’t leave.”

John murmured something back. His reply was too low for Dean to hear, but whatever he said make Cas sigh sleepily.

Dean walked back to his own room in the dark, and stumbled into his bed. Sam was out like a light in the other bed.

Dean couldn’t sleep.

\- - -

It didn’t take long for news about the Colt to get to the demons.

The demons killed Pastor Jim Murphy. Meg called John on the phone, and killed Caleb and made them listen to Caleb choking on his own blood before dying.

“Meet me at the warehouse at midnight tonight, and bring the gun. Come alone,” Meg said. “Or take Clarence with you. I would love to see him again.”

The phone went dead.

“You can’t go,” Sam said.

“It’s a trap, Dad,” Dean said.

“What other choice do I have?” John said. “They’ve killed Jim and Caleb already. I can’t let any more of our friends die for this.”

“I’m coming with you,” Cas said, laying a hand on John’s shoulder.

There was a silent exchange between Cas and John, and Dean pretended not to know what it meant.

John nodded. He took out the Colt from his duffel bag and handed it to Dean. “I’ll give them a fake gun. You boys hold onto the Colt.”

\- - -

Of course it went wrong.

Meg got John and Cas, and went after Dean and Sam for the Colt. Dean drove out to find Bobby, and they captured Meg with a devil’s trap and found out where the demons were killing John and Cas.

That was how Dean and Sam found themselves half-carrying John and Cas out of a residential building, and Dean used up a bullet of the Colt to gank a demon that tried to kill Sam on their way out.

They were holed up in an abandoned cabin in the woods, one of those things that people kept in the woods for hunting season and didn’t keep locked up securely enough.

Sam lined the insides of the cabin with salt, while Dean checked up on Cas, whose entire left eye and cheek were puffed up in black and purple.

“This looks nasty. Did they hit you with a door?” Dean dabbed at the swelling with a cold soaked towel. Cas hissed in pain. Dean said, “Shit, sorry.”

“I’m fine.” Cas didn’t wince when Dean pressed the towel against his bruises. “How’s John?”

“Dad is good,” Dean said, his hand steady on Cas’s face, “He’s checking the salt lines at the back. You know how he gets.”

“Thanks for saving me back there,” Sam said. He looked rung out, and the blood coagulating on his face was not helping, but at least he was alive. Dean could still feel his finger squeezing the trigger of the Colt to kill the demon.

“You’re my little brother,” Dean said, he clapped Sam’s back. “I’m not gonna let some demon get a hold of you.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Dad’s gonna be mad,” Dean said, running a hand through his hair. “We only have two bullets left for the Colt now.”

Sam’s gaze softened. “You didn’t have a choice. Dad will understand.”

“I’m proud of you, Dean,” John said, returning from the back of the cabin.

“You’re not mad?” Dean said.

“Of course not,” John said. “You did good. You protected this family.”

”Thanks, Dad,” Dean said.

“Now give me the gun,” John said.

\- - -

Dean raised the Colt and pointed it at John’s face. “Dad would chew me out for wasting a bullet. He wouldn’t praise me. You’re not Dad.”

John narrowed his eyes. With a wave of his hand, an invisible force yanked Dean yanked backwards and up the wall. The Colt clattered to the floor.

Before Sam could dive down and get the gun, he was slammed in to the wall.

Cas had barely stood up when he was pulled out of his chair and pinned against the wall by the demon’s powers.

”Hello, boys.” John grinned, his eyes turned into a sickly yellow color.

“Get the fuck out of him,” Dean said.

“That wasn’t very nice of you, Dean,” the Yellow-Eyed Demon said. “Especially after you exorcised my daughter and killed my son back there. I might give you a quick death if you behave.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean said.

“Yeah.” The demon got up close to where Dean was pinned against the wall. Dean could smell the stink of sulfur in the demon’s breath. “I wonder how it would feel, being torn to pieces by your daddy’s very own hands.”

Dean fully expected to feel John’s hands on him when the demon leaned ever closer, but then the demon flinched as if he was burnt.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” Cas said, the words coming out of his mouth in a stream. “Omnis satanica-“

It felt likea sharp claw dug into Dean’s chest. Dean groaned . Cas stopped chanting.

“Now, now. You don’t want me killing this boy, do you?” the demon said. “You say one more word and I rip his heart out.”

Dean couldn’t help a moan of pain as the force dug deeper into his chest.

Cas stared defiantly at the demon. “John, you can fight it.”

“I can read all of John’s thoughts in here,” the demon said, tapping at his own forehead, “It’s like a book open to me. You are a good fuck to Johnny here. Nothing more.”

“Demons lie,” Cas said.

“You always come second to his mission,” the demon said, he leaned close to Cas, “To poor dead Mary. He didn’t want to come. You might jeopardize his mission.”

“You don’t know anything,” Cas said, but the colors had gone out of his face.

“Oh, I know how you became a hunter,” the demon said.

“No,” Cas said.

“You never told your little family here, did you?” the demon said. “About your poor dead brothers and sisters. It’s sad no one was going to avenge them.”

“Stop,” Cas said. His lips were pale. “They don’t need to hear it.”

“It doesn’t really matter.” The demon smirked. “Point is, you get yourself a nice new family, let yourself play house, but it’ll never be the same thing again, because you’re not blood.”

Cas stared back at the demon but didn’t say anything.

“At least he’s got a family. Where’s yours?” Dean said. He grinned. “Right, I forgot. I wasted them.”

The demon glared at him. The skin on Dean’s chest started tearing open. Blood was blossoming on the front of his shirt. Dean’s knees buckled from the pain. He would have dropped to the floor if not for the demon’s powers holding him up against the wall.

“Dean!” Cas said.

Sam yelled, “Stop it, Dad, please!”

Dean said through gritted teeth, “Dad, don’t you let it kill me.”

The demon smiled.

Blood was bubbling up Dean’s throat. His mouth tasted like iron. There was blood spilling out from between his lips, from his chest. He was going to be torn in half, right in the middle.

Dean looked at the monster wearing his dad and pleaded, “Dad, please.”

Something behind John’s eyes changed. “Stop it.”

Sam dropped to the floor like a stone, while Dean and Cas were still stuck against the wall. He dived for the gun and turned it on John.

“Kill me, son. Quick,” John said to Sam. “It’s inside me. You have to shoot me now.”

“John, no!” Cas said, struggling against the force holding him.

“I can’t hold it back much longer. Do it!” John said.

Sam’s eyes were wide.

“Sammy, don’t you shoot!” Dean said. “It’s Dad.”

“I’m begging you, son,” John said. “End this. End this right now.”

“Don’t listen to him, Sam,” Cas said.

“Do it!” John said.

Dean flinched when he saw John’s eyes turned back to yellow.

The Yellow-Eyed Demon sneered. “You kill me, you kill Daddy.”

“I know,” Sam said. He lowered the gun and shot John in the leg.

A dark cloud of smoke rushed out of John’s mouth, and disappeared through the wooden floor.

John crumpled to the floor. So did Dean and Cas, as the force holding them was lifted. Sam knelt by Dean’s side and picked Dean up from the floor.

Cas held out a hand to help John up, but John batted it away.

“You should have stayed out of this,” John said.

“You think I should let Sam kill you?” Cas said incredulously.

John glared at him, “It would have ended the demon. This thing is about our family. This is none of your business.”

Cas looked like he’d been slapped across the face.

“It’s my choice,” Sam said, as he pulled Dean up to his feet.

“I’m surprised at you, Sam,” John said. “You should have killed the demon when you’ve got the chance.”

Sam carried Dean out of the door. “We need to leave before the demon came back.”

They got into the Impala. Sam was driving and John glaring at Sam from the passenger seat. Dean and Cas sat in the back. Dean’s mouth was caked with the blood Yellow-Eyes made him cough up.

“I thought we had an agreement, Sam,” John said. “You should have killed the demon. It came before anything, before me.”

“No,” Sam said. “Not before everything.”

Before they knew it, the inside of the car was lit up by the headlights from an oncoming truck. Sam didn’t have time to swerve to avoid the truck. The truck slammed into the side of the Impala with a sickening crunch of metal and glass and bones.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean gasped for breath as he woke up in a hospital bed. He was surrounded by the steady beeps of the machines next to his bed. He felt numb; he’d probably been pumped full of drugs.

Cas’s face swam into sight above him; there was a line of stitches on Cas’s cheek. “Dean?”

Dean tried to say “Cas” and choked on the tube in his throat. He started coughing violently.

Cas turned to someone outside Dean’s view. “Call the doctor!”

“I need help here!” Came Sam’s voice from where the doorway was. Then Sam came to Dean’s bedside, looking all banged up but alive. “Dean!”

Some nurses pushed Cas and Sam pushed away from the bed, and a doctor started asking him questions and shining a light in Dean’s eyes.

After the examination was done, Dean was propped up by pillows in the bed. “What happened?”

“A demon crashed a truck into the Impala” Sam said. He looked pale and wide-eyed.

“Dammit,” Dean said. “They got Baby?”

“You nearly died, Dean. You said there was a reaper after you when I talked to you on an Ouji board.”

“I don’t remember any of that,” Dean said.

“I’m just glad you’re fine,” Sam said, gripping Dean’s shoulder.

“Hey, boys,” John said. He was leaning against the doorway. His arm was in a sling. “Sam, can you get me a coffee?”

Sam stood up, frowning. He was tall enough to tower over Dad. “Where have you been? Dean almost died.”

“Just go, Sam,” Dean said tiredly.

Sam scowled, but he left.

“I’m glad to see you’re fine, kid,” John said.

“You too,” Dean said.

“I’m gonna tell you something, you don’t tell Sam about this, okay?” John said.

Dean nodded.

John leaned down, and said, “Look out for Sammy. But you have to kill him if you can’t stop him.”

Dean blinked, sure he’d heard wrong. He stared at John as John straightened up. “Dad?”

John patted Dena’s head and turned to leave. He reached the door before he was stopped by Cas, whose hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat. Cas said, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Had some business to finish,” John said. He pressed a kiss to Cas’s lips. Cas kissed back, but John stopped him gently before it got too far. “Don’t worry about the boys. Go and take care of yourself after this.”

Cas looked after John, frowning, as John walked out of the room.

A few seconds later, Sam screamed from the hallway, “Dad!”

John was pronounced dead within minutes.

\- - -

They burnt John’s body on a pyre in an abandoned field thirty minutes away from town.

Sam was barely holding back tears as the fire licked away at the wrapped body.

Cas didn’t cry, but he had that blank faraway look in his eyes. The one that hid a world of hurt underneath. The one, when Dean was young enough to fit on Cas’s lap and asked Cas why he started hunting, that Cas had in his eyes when he said, “Life.”

It taught Dean to never ask a hunter that question.

They watched the smoke rose high.

\- - -

They didn’t stop hunting, because there were always new monsters.

Cas didn’t join them on the hunts, but he tagged along with Dean and Sam from town to town. At each new town, Cas drove out in the dead of night with a small box at the bottom of the trunk. Dean was worried Cas would leave and never come back, like John asked him to. Sam told Dean not to worry.

Cas came back every time, though he always came back with bags under his eyes and the smell of drinks on his breath after a night out.

It was only after the hunt where they came across a crossroads demon that Dean realized what was happening.

Dean waited outside the motel room that night after the hunt, sitting on a chair he took from the room. Cas had driven away in John’s truck as soon as it got dark.

It was way past three in the morning when the truck finally rumbled into the parking lot.

Dean straightened up as Cas stepped out from the truck. He was staggering and he stank like he downed a bar.

“Are you drunk?” Dean said. “Are you drink driving?”

“Leave me alone, Dean,” Cas said.

“I want to talk to you,” Dean said, approaching Cas. His voice was loud in the quiet of the lot.

“Can it wait?”

“No, I need to talk to you now,” Dean said forcefully. “I know what the box is for.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cas said dully.

“Crossroads demons, Cas!” Dean said. Cas didn’t look up. Dean said, “We finished a hunt yesterday. A crossroads demon told me Dad’s in Hell. He made a deal for me, didn’t he? You’re trying to make a deal to get him back.”

Cas didn’t speak.

“I’m not stupid,” Dean said. “I can put two and two together.”

“I know,” Cas said fondly with bloodshot eyes. “You are one of the smartest boys I ever know.”

Dean gave voice to the question that had been bothering him for the whole day. “Do you hate me, Cas? Is that why you’re never around anymore?”

“I can never hate you,” Cas said. He patted Dean on the cheek in wonder, and squinted, like he was seeing Dean for the first time. “Did anyone tell you you look like John?”

“That’s because you’re drunk.” Dean grasped Cas’s hand and put it down firmly. His heart ached. “It’s bedtime for you.”

Dean dragged Cas into the motel room. Cas let out a loud snore when his head hit the pillow. Dean pulled the covers over Cas, and pulled his feet up onto the bed. Cas could take off his own filthy boots if he wanted, Dean was not touching them.

Dean lay down on the couch, guilt sitting low in his stomach. John died so Dean wouldn’t, and Dean would never forget he practically killed his dad.

It made Dean felt worse than ever for wanting Cas, but it didn’t stop him from thinking it.

There was a voice in the back of his head that wouldn’t stop reminding him that Cas was single now.

\- - -

Dean woke up in a large bed.

He was lying under a thick duvet, unlike the motel covers that were bleached too much and scratched his skin if he slept naked .

There was a warm body next to him, and the breathing was a soothing sound that Dean could fall asleep to again. Which was weird, because Dean couldn’t remember bringing anyone to the motel with him last night.

Dean opened his eyes, and froze.

Dean could only stare. He was face-to-face with Cas; he was close enough to count the dark eyelashes resting on Cas’s cheeks.

But Cas looked young. He was a few years older than Dean at most. The wrinkles around his eyes were not as deep as Dean knew them, and the hair at his temples was no longer steely gray. He was younger than Dean had ever seen him, younger than when he first charged out of the woods with a rifle and blasted away the werewolf that tried to rip Dean’s chest open.

He looked peaceful, and content.

As if sensing Dean was awake, Cas’s eyes fluttered open. He smiled sleepily. “Morning, Dean.”

Dean opened his mouth. He had so many questions, like how he got to this bizarro world and what was happening and why Cas wasn’t freaking out.

But they were silenced as soon as Cas pressed his lips against Dean’s.

Cas’s mouth tasted like morning breath and the slightest hint of mint toothpaste. Dean let himself relaxed and yielded to the kiss. Dean moaned, and his mouth fell open, allowing Cas to slip in his tongue. Dean tasted a hint of mint toothpaste at the very back of Cas’s teeth.

He could do this forever.

Dean’s stomach grumbled, and Cas broke away with laughter.

“Someone’s hungry,” Cas said.

“No shit.” Dean said, grinning breathlessly.

“I’ll go get breakfast,” Cas said. He got out of bed, and Dean was treated to the view of a large expanse of leanly muscled back. “I can feel you staring.”

“Can’t blame me for enjoying the view,” Dean said, sitting up in bed to pull Cas in for another deep kiss.

It was everything Dean wanted.

\- - -

Which was, of course, exactly why Dean woke up groggily to Sam shaking him awake in a djinn’s lair. A young girl was strung up in chains across from him, and he didn’t see the body of a djinn on the floor. The thing was still around.

“Come on, Dean. Shake out of it!” Sam said.

After they’d sent the girl to a hospital, and they were driving back to the motel, Sam finally asked, “What did you see?”

“Mom was alive, you were married to Jess and you were a big shot lawyer. I had a job at garage,” Dean said. “We weren’t hunters.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “What about Dad? Cas?”

“Dad was dead,” Dean said without looking at Sam. “Guess we didn’t get to meet Cas in that world.”

For the next few weeks, Dean woke up missing a warm body next to him. He missed being greeted by a smile and warm blue eyes in his bed. He missed kissing chapped lips and tasting fresh breath in the morning.

Every night, after Sam was asleep, Dean lay wake in bed, and listened for the sounds of the door opening quietly and a heavy body dropping in the spare cot set up on the other side of the room.

He couldn’t forget the dream.

\- - -

Sam was kidnapped by the Yellow-Eyed Demon.

When Dean and Cas and Bobby saw Sam again, it was to watch Sam got stabbed in the back by a soldier.

“Sam!” Dean ran forwards and caught Sam before he hit the ground. Pounding footsteps told him Bobby and Cas were after the soldier, but Dean couldn’t care, not when his little brother was bleeding to death in his arms. “Sam! No!”

Dean held Sam until Sam’s body grew cold and stiff, and Bobby and Cas pulled him away and carried Sam’s body to the truck.

They put Sam on a bed in an abandoned cabin in the ghost town.

Bobby had left the cabin an hour ago, mumbling about needing air, and he hadn’t come back. Dean suspected he was drinking from his flask somewhere where no one could see his tears.

“Dean.”

Dean looked up to see Cas standing behind him. Cas looked like he’d aged a decade. The lines around his eyes were etched deeper. His eyes looked hollow. “I could stand watch. Why don’t you get some rest?”

Dean walked out of the cabin door. Bobby was nowhere to be found.

Somehow, Dean found himself behind the wheels of the Impala. He was a in a daze, and he did the thing he always did. He started the engine and drove.

A few miles down an abandoned road, Dean found a crossroads. He found a tin box in the trunk, and put in one of his fake IDs, graveyard dirt, and a black cat bone. He buried the box in the center of the crossroads.

“Are you looking for me?” a woman said behind him.

Dean turned round.

A woman in a black dress smiled at him on the empty stretch of road. Her eyes were blood red. “Dean Winchester. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“I want my brother back,” Dean said.

“Oh yeah, I heard about it. What a tragedy,” the crossroads demon said. She circled Dean, moving too closely. The perfume that her meatsuit was wearing didn’t cover the stink of sulfur. “Instead of ten years, I’ll give you one year. You’ll get to spend a year with Sam, before I collected your soul. How does it sound?”

“No,” Dean said. “I want you to take me now.”

The crossroads demon stepped back from Dean. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? I’ve never had someone asking me for less years.”

“Yeah, I’m a special snowflake,” Dean said. He didn’t mention how he didn’t want to see the disappointment in Cas’s eyes, or Sam’s, or Bobby’s, and to have to watch them running in circles trying to get him out of his deal. John didn’t get a year, why should he? “Are we doing this or not?”

“If I took your soul now, it would hardly be fair to you. We make deals, we’re not estate agents,” the demon said. “We don’t screw people over.”

“Because demons are such Good Samaritans,” Dean said.

“No, but you’re going to hell for eternity, might as well every penny’s worth out of your soul”

“Get my dad out of hell and bring Sam back to life,” Dean said. “I go to hell now.”

The demon laughed, her laughter wrecked her small form, like it was the best joke she had ever heard. “Oh, honey, your soul doesn’t worth that much. How about something else? Money? Power? Wisdom? Health? Love?”

Dean looked up from the ground.

The demon’s smile broadened. “Is It Shurley? I knew there is something strange about the way he’s following you boys around like a lost dog.”

“It’s not like that,” Dean said.

”Of course not.” The demon smiled unpleasantly. “But you dad is dead. So what’s stopping you from getting his sloppy seconds?”

“Fuck you.”

“After I raise Sam from death, I’ll give you a month with Castiel. He’ll fall in love with you. He’ll love you more than he loved your dad. He won’t know what hit him. How about it?”

Dean thought about smooth skin and rough stubble. He thought about warm lips with moist breath.

He could find out how Cas sounded when he breathed out Dean’s name, and this time it wouldn’t be a dream conjured up by a monster while he was wasted away in his body.

Dean wavered.

“No,” Dean said. “I’ll never do that to Cas. Here’s the deal: I want Sam alive, no one gets to exchange their soul for mine, and you take my soul now.”

“Can’t say I didn’t try,” the demon said. “Now give me a kiss so we can seal this deal.”

Dean kissed the demon, hard on the mouth. It tasted like brimstone and fire.

The demon released him and stepped back with a grin on her face. “I’ll be seeing you, Dean.” And then she was gone.

Dean petted the Impala on the hood.

Dean knew Cas and Bobby would find him if they followed the tracks of the Impala, so he didn’t worry about Baby being abandoned in the middle of the road.

Sam had Cas and Bobby, and they’d go after the Yellow-Eyed Demon. They’d be fine.

Dean took off the coat John gave him so many years ago, and draped it over the driver seat in the Impala. He tugged at the amulet he was wearing, but left it on.

It was the one thing he could keep for himself.

For the last time, Dean wondered how things would have turned out differently if Cas hadn’t met John first. If Dean wasn’t just the kid Cas saved on a hunt and handed back to John.

Dean wondered if Cas would cry for him, but pushed that thought out of his mind. Cas didn’t even cry at John’s funeral.

Dean heard a long howl in the night. The hellhound was coming.


End file.
